The 69th Hunger Games - The Second, Fifth, and Twelfth
by TrappedBeat
Summary: Going back in time to the 69th Hunger Games, Matt, Julia, and Cham are just some of the young adults forced to participate. The story progresses as each one takes the Game day by day with a goal on their minds - to survive and live. They will soon realize that the other tributes are not the only enemies, but their minds too. (Action/Tragedy/Suspense)


_Author's Note: __I'm not sure if I'll mention names of other characters from the actual novel. It's only the setting really that makes this a fan fiction. All of the characters mentioned are mine. As a disclaimer, I'd like to say that Matthew, Akriel, and Tenka are my original characters. Other characters were created for this story specifically. I'm not sure if I'll keep them for future stories outside of the world of Panem._

_My main focus is to finish my Prince of Tennis fanfic. I only posted this because it was just there in my files long forgotten. I hope to pick it up after I get the first story finished. Maybe I'll write a few chapters along the way should I feel like writing something besides tennis and boys' love._

_Anyway, enough rambling from me, just read. I hope you all enjoy reading this and don't be afraid to comment. I need the constructive criticism._

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**Chapter One: The Tributes**

_District Two: Matt (15)_

His out-of-place appearance was enough to victimize the boy. He wasn't like the other district residents. Silver eyes and silver hair were not natural. They coincided with the fact that the people of the Capitol dyed themselves in unnatural colors. He was thin and short, not bulked up and towering either. He was most likely the shortest male of them all.

Males in District Two were supposed to be the definition of "strength." The boy wasn't; though, it didn't mean much to him. As long as he got what he needed, he was fine. Being picked on was the least of his worries for the supposed honorary day had come. The Hunger Games had begun.

_District Twelve: Cham (15)_

He had that Seam look about him – the olive skin and the dark hair. What left him out of place were his bright blue eyes. Those gave him away, showing that he was a part of the merchant class.

Problem was Cham was orphaned and lived in poverty with his beloved grandfather. He knew nothing of his deceased parents. They were the only topic he was forbidden to ask about, for reasons unknown.

Since the day of reaping had come, it wouldn't matter who his parents were anyway. They didn't affect whether or not he would survive another year of horror; be it he was in the Games or in the audience.

_District Five: Julia (18)_

She was scrawny and not very strong. Her small body was made up of agility and intelligence. The idea of her participating as a tribute would surely give her a fright. She would receive pity; she knew that. With such a small population, every child was valued as a future worker, needed to be trained with knowledge of electricity. They would mourn seeing another asset slaughtered; his or her knowledge gone to waste in the bloodbath.

"Let the 69th Hunger Games begin!" A female announcer practically shrieked into the microphone. She clapped her hands together in delight as though all of this was a game to her. No pun intended, but she seemed ignorant of how damaging these games were.

Julia Maxt's eyes furrowed together as the woman spoke on and on. Focusing on the bizarre hair style, the gears in her head turned. Just how much energy was spent, styling her hair in such a way? Estimations were made, and she came up with numbers that didn't satisfy her. There had to be a way to make use of less energy… it was all that was in her head – efficiency. It would be much more conservative to not have such a ridiculous hairstyle in the first place.

The male beside her carried the same furrowed expression. Twins – the pair of them were similar in mind. Although he didn't appear as so, her twin was much stronger than her. With their minds elsewhere, they hardly took the moment to acknowledge each other. That was how they were raised. They didn't think much of family but more of their livelihoods as electricity providers.

At some point in time, the fated words, "Ladies first!" jolted the girl back to reality. She anxiously bit down on her lip, hoping she wouldn't be a tribute. After this, she could live the rest of her life without fear of the Games.

_District Two: Matt (15)_

"Matthew Fatale!"

His name resonated through the microphone. A thin smirk curled on his lips. So it was finally the day he could leave this blasted district.

No one from the large pool of children jumped up to volunteer when the offer was made. It definitely was a first. The honor of being a tribute passed over because the pleasure of possibly seeing his death was much more desirable. Or so it seemed.

Matt walked up, his silver hair dangled just above his eyes. After shaking hands with officials he didn't bother learning the names of (though they knew his name pretty damn well), he took his place next to his female counterpart – Malice.

Already, he felt like he was in the arena, assessing his enemies. The female wasn't the best of the females when it came to hand-to-hand combat. But knives, like every female, were her specialty. And like her name, she was malicious, although she constantly insisted on pronouncing her name as /mal-lease/. She also was as crazy as the girls who fawned over him. He could use that for once.

Minutes later after a few last words, he and Malice were escorted to the Justice Building and placed in separate rooms. It was time for good-byes. The boy didn't have many loved ones. He only had an older brother and one legal guardian. As for friends, well, he only had one.

His family came in first. The older brother, Takumi, with watery eyes immediately embraced him. His guardian stood over them with sad but watchful eyes. Despite their lives being more comfortable than other districts, seeing a beloved family member being placed in the arena was too much.

Matt sighed softly. He knew how emotional his brother was; the trait ran in the family. The boy wasn't going to cry though. His mind was already set to survive and kill.

"Matt… I…" Takumi couldn't exactly say he wanted him to win. It would mean watching his little brother kill, but it shouldn't matter when the boy plans on becoming a soldier.

"I'll enter and leave that arena fighting." His words were simple and the best he could do. A promise in a way, but seeing his older brother nod meant it was enough. Besides, he didn't intend to die. Surely, his family knew that.

_District Twelve: Cham (15)_

"Cham Oak!"

The young male felt faint. As he approached the stage, he swore there was a noose hanging over his designated spot. That spot was meant for him all right.

Trembling despite his attempts to appear emotionless, Cham took his place. The cameras trained on him only increased his anxiety and fear. What were all of the people of Panem seeing in him? Most likely a malnourished kid who lacked skills in battle and survival…

And so the two tributes were chosen – him and a twelve-year-old girl who resided from the merchant class. What was her name? Cham hardly knew her for she stuck with her own group. He had a feeling she was known as Destiny, which was now a horrible name to have.

When they were told to shake hands, it was discomforting. Did Cham have the guts to even kill someone this small? Hell, did he even have the chance of surviving past the first day?

Once inside the Justice Building, the only visitor the boy received was his grandfather. Though, it did mean extra time to share parting words; it seemed like an odd blessing for Cham.

Around the Seam, Grandfather Oak was respected for outliving many people who died of illness or starvation. Many wondered how he stayed healthy and surprisingly happy, given the condition they all lived in.

His advice: "Every little thing that makes you happy – be happy for it."

But with his grandson a tribute, there was nothing to be happy for. He held onto the young boy, close and tight. For fifteen years, he took care of him, managing to earn money by doing favors and raising meager crops. Every year at each reaping, he didn't want to bear seeing Cham chosen.

"I love you, Cham. No matter what happens in that arena, I still love you." His voice broke while he held him.

The boy didn't know what else to say. He couldn't. A single thought came to mind. Irrelevant, but still… this was the last moment he would spend with his grandfather.

"What about… mom and dad?"

After precious seconds passed, the elderly man looked at him, his gray eyes still watering. "If only I told you sooner, I shouldn't have waited. You were too young to know…"

"It doesn't matter anymore, grandpa. I have to know." When he didn't receive a response, his tone became more desperate. "Please…! _Please!_" He simply had to know now. His chances for survival were dim, and he wasn't being negative. The facts were obvious in the Seam. There was only one surviving winner in District Twelve.

"…all right. But prepare yourself… these aren't happy words I wanted to share with you, not ever."

_District Five: Julia (18)_

Julia and Watson. They were the chosen tributes – both brother and sister. What were the chances of that? The odds ran through her head. It wasn't too slim that one or the other was chosen, but the chances of the both of them being chosen were slimmer than a person with one name written in.

Both stood upon the stage and stared out to the population. It was at this moment where Julia actually realized how important her brother was to her. How ironic and cruel these Games were.

"How exciting!" The female announcer cried into her microphone, completely ecstatic. "We have siblings in the competition!"

That only made the situation worse. When Julia turned to look at her brother, she saw something strange in his eyes. There was no fear or uneasiness. Instead, she observed completely different emotions. He appeared excited and amused. This wasn't a side of him she knew of. But with the Hunger Games in motion, what did she know about Watson that was useful?


End file.
